Sitting in church for three hours every Sunday, not understanding the language and just letting my mind free-associate may not be the kind of spiritual experience the church leaders want me to have…but it works for me.
Continue reading Don’t Call it Death
Category Archives: Reflections
Critters, Books, and Breaking Through
I’m just back from an in-service training about beekeeping. It was interesting; hives can be made out of all sorts of materials. I want to try a clay pot hive, because clay pots are much cheaper than lumber here, especially when you consider transport costs. Matthew, my supervisor, thinks that kids will more easily disturb a clay pot hive, breaking the pots to get to the honey inside.
Continue reading Critters, Books, and Breaking Through
Green-eyed Grrrl
I shouldn’t be surprised. It seems predictable in so many ways. But I really wanted to believe that I was above it, or over it, or beyond it.
Continue reading Green-eyed Grrrl
Elusive Delight
Being here, it’s easier to appreciate things.
Continue reading Elusive Delight
Glimpses of a Life
I went to confession diligently in my adolescent years. But I often left feeling more guilty than I went in, always unable to tell the priest everything. Continue reading Glimpses of a Life
Flights
I remember someone who lived in an old dilapidated yurt on a goat ranch, with her cat and dog.
Continue reading Flights
Croatoan
It wasn’t until I got dressed to leave that I felt emotional.
Migration Season
Note to readers: I will very likely be putting Junden.com under a system to require a login for reading. I’ll plan to send email to those of you who have commented on posts. For others, there will be instructions on the site, or drop me a note if you need help. At the moment, I’m thinking that I’ll keep this site private but start a new more public blog. There are things I’ve been wanting to write about here that I haven’t felt comfortable sharing, but would like to try to start, among friends at first.
Hawk watch starts soon, and yesterday some of our team rode around the back roads of Davis, looking at the Swainson’s Hawks who are staging for their migration to South America. These hawks congregate in the fields, eating insects, and then begin their journey for South America…one of the longer raptor migrations. Continue reading Migration Season
Mt. Wittenberg
I used to think of the voice as “crazy”. I don’t think that any more, except in a very warm and friendly sort of way. I never know when I’m going to hear it, but when I do, it’s usually something very clear, short, direct, and undeniable.
Continue reading Mt. Wittenberg
But She’s Not There
It was early morning, and I was sitting zazen, facing the wall. I heard my husband stir, waken, and go through his morning routine; the familiar sounds of making coffee and padding off to his office.